Art! An Artist Opines.....

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-11T15:17:00.003-07:00

Well, where did the year go? Heck, where have the last 10 years gone? Time goes so quickly, my dad used to say it is like a roll of toilet paper...the closer you get to the end the faster it spins!!

I don't update this blog very often, it seems any big happenings are easier noted on Facebook. I would like to take a minute to wish you all such a very Merry Christmas. You are a blessing, and keep me encouraged and inspired.

God Bless you all.

Warmest wishes,
JK

One More Thing....Hold On!

2011-06-23T09:23:00.007-07:00

Long, hot Arizona summer settling in, comforted by the fact that the year is almost 1/2 over and cooler weather is on the way! 113 degrees today, perhaps it it time to consider relocating to a cooler climate? I do love Arizona, maybe one of our beautiful mountain towns.

This painting was created from a picture I took while working a cattle drive in the glorious White Mountains of Arizona. Sad to know that where I took this picture is part of the devastation caused by the Wallow Fire, and is gone now...I still have my memories, thank goodness.

Tall in the Saddle

2011-05-15T11:22:00.008-07:00

One hot, dusty summer day in a canyon up Wickenburg way I took a photo of this cowboy. It is an older painting, created a few years back, but still one of my favorites.

Not sure why, but now that summer is closing in I'm feeling more like painting, have 3 pieces in the works. One's a cowboy boot closeup, another's a cowgirl and her horse, and one isn't even western! VERY different from my usual, but lots of fun to create.

Totally addicted to my iPad, managing to stay better informed and in touch with artsy fartsy stuff, and looking forward to a productive summer.

God Bless.

2011-03-06T11:32:00.006-07:00

'What's In That Pocket?'

A ranch in Wickenburg, Arizona was the backdrop for this piece. Nature graced Wickenburg with a gentle magic. Resting on the northern edge of the Sonoran Desert, just below Arizona's mountainous country, the Wickenburg area abounds in natural beauty. While the area's geological treasures attracted the miners from around the world, the Hassayampa River flood plain provided fertile soil for farming and ranching.

In the early 1820's, stalwart hunters and trappers explored the Hassayampa River in search of beavers, whose pelts were sold to hat makers back east and in Europe. Their reports helped pique American interest in the West.

In the late 19th century, there were so many questionable mining promotions around Wickenburg, that the joke grew that whoever drank from the Hassayampa River was thenceforth unable to speak the truth. Hassayamper came to mean a teller of tall tales!!

2011-01-15T19:58:00.001-07:00

Ready for NM

I enjoy detailed paintings of saddles, boots, etc. This was fun to paint!

...Ergo the metaphor - what the motorcar was to the American 20th century traveler, or working employee, (who used a car or truck to make a living), the saddle was to the American traveler and cowboy one to four hundred years immediately prior. What was under the hood, be it horses or horsepower did not change much. Rather, it was the drivers' seat and all its appearances that we have obsessed about. Henry Ford invented the first motorcar and the Spanish Vaquero invented the first western cowboy saddle.

from 'Cowboys-Vaqueros, Origins of the First American Cowboys' by Donald Gilbert Y Chavez

'Countin' My Blessings'

2010-12-18T18:43:00.004-07:00

'Our Heavenly Father, we pause at this time,

mindful of the many blessings you have bestowed upon us.

We ask, Lord, that you will be with us in the arena of life.

We as cowboys do not ask for special favors.

We don't ask to draw around the chute fighting horse, the steer that won't lay, or to never break the barrier.

We don't even ask for all daylight runs.

We do ask Lord, that you will help us live our lives here on earth as cowboys, in such a manner, that when we make that last inevitable ride, to the country up there, where the grass grows lush, green, and st

irrup high, and the water runs cool, clear, and deep, that you'll take us by the hand and say -

"Welcome to Heaven cowboy, your entry fees are paid."'

Thanks to the 101 Wild West Rodeo for this prayer.

Ride to Raton

2010-11-06T21:58:00.003-07:00

This is the cover of a western novel, called 'Ride to Raton', written by Marsha Ward. Click here to go to Miss Ward's website...a lovely, talented woman, I am pleased to know her! The original of this painting is available for purchase.

In today's downtown Raton, the Joseph Building was formerly the site of the Gem Saloon and the Raton Realty Company. Dating from the 1890s, it retains the original pressed metal ceiling and painted cupids on the walls. The doors and windows are trimmed with a series of round brick arches.

One block north of the Downtown Raton Historic District lies Ripley Park. Created in the 1900s on land donated by the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad, the park was named after Edward P. Ripley, then president of the company. The park's two acres of grass and trees offer a beautiful view of the mesas and mountains which surround Raton. Located in the park is a stone monument, commemorating the mountain branch of the Santa Fe Trail. In the 1800s settlers, frontiersman and soldiers alike followed this early Indian and Spanish route across the Raton Pass and proceeded south, through Raton.

I drove through the Raton Pass in October as I headed to Denver, and again on the way home. It is beautiful country!

'Babe'

2010-09-24T10:49:00.002-07:00

Aunt Babe, this one's for you!

The following story has some interesting parallels to my Aunt Babe's life. Her grandparents came to the US from Denmark, and her mom was born in Omaha, Nebraska in 1896. Aunt Babe headed to San Francisco for work, stopped in Denver, CO and stayed there, finding work and is still there today. In her mid 80's she is still a sharp, independent gal, and I am so happy to know and love her. I found this story about Miss Lindvig, and really enjoyed it. I hope you do, too!

Katherine Jensen Lindvig, or Kate Lindvig, also known as the Cattle Queen of Snowmass, was the most famous woman rancher in The Roaring Fork Valley. Born in 1865, in Jutland, Denmark, she came to America in 1889 when she was 25 years old. She came to marry a farmer in Nebraska, but when she saw the farmer and life on the plains, she decided to journey on to Colorado.

She arrived in Aspen in 1891 and was hired as a cook in one of the better homes in town. After saving some money, she opened her own boardinghouse on East Hopkins, where she made up to 400 bag lunches a day for the miners. In 1896, she received a homestead in the upper Snowmass Creek valley in payment for a board bill and from then on she was in business.

Her ranch was called the Snowmass Falls Ranch. She also acquired the neighboring J.M. Tandy place in 1898 and the CM. Pennell ranch in 1915. The three parcels made up a total of 640 acres.

She had three old men who helped her out on the ranch. They were given room and board in return for their work. Lindvig had a forest service permit to graze 80 head of Hereford cattle, but rather than shipping them to market, she had two head butchered each week and sold the meat in town. She also sold butter and eggs in town, taking her goods in on a sled or wagon.

In 1925, she expanded her business to include guest cabins, which she rented to fishermen and she offered horses to ride as well as meals. Kate Lindvig remained single despite marriage proposals.

In the 1920's, she leased her place to her niece, Mette Watt, and went to live with her nephew, Jens Christiansen, her sister, Sophia's son. Sophia and her husband, Mads Christiansen had arrived from Denmark in May of 1914. In 1943, Kate sold her ranch to D.R.C. Brown. She moved to San Diego in 1946 and died there in 1957, at the age of 92.

Compiled by Christie Kienast with information from Anne Gilbert's report and from "A History of Capitol and Snowmass Creeks" by Charles Hart, longtime Capitol Creek rancher. (1993)

The Kid

2010-09-15T11:28:00.003-07:00

Watching his buddies compete, kicking back at the rodeo in the White Mountains of Arizona. Another glorious day! 'The Kid' is the current featured original on my website right now, so stop on by and check it out! :)

Here's a bit of rodeo info you may enjoy.....did you know that one of the 7 standard events in rodeo is bareback riding?

Bareback bronc riding is a rough and explosive rodeo event. The most physically demanding of all the rodeo events, and the first event to compete at most rodeos. Cowboys ride rough horses without the benefit of saddle or rein. They ride 'bareback' on the horse and use a leather rigging, which looks like a heavy piece of leather with a suitcase handle. The cowboys ride one handed and cannot touch themselves or the horse with their free hand. As with saddle bronc riding the mark out rule is in effect. The cowboys spur the horse from shoulder to rigging, in a frantic style trying make a qualified ride of 8 seconds. Once the ride is completed, pick-up men swoop in to 'pick up' the rider and set him safely on the ground.

Cowboys are judged on their control and spurring technique, and the horses are judged on their power, speed, and agility.

Dog Days of Summer

2010-08-02T11:17:00.007-07:00

I love dogs. No way around it, I do believe that they are one of the coolest of God's creations. So, any reason to feature a few dog pics is ok with me....

Why do they call these days of summer 'dog days'? I found the following explanation at a fun site called wilstar.com.

....In the summer, Sirius, the “dog star,” rises and sets with the sun. During late July Sirius is in conjunction with the sun, and the ancients believed that its heat added to the heat of the sun, creating a stretch of hot and sultry weather. They named this period of time, from 20 days before the conjunction to 20 days after, “dog days” after the dog star....

Please enjoy these additional pics of Miss Katie. These along with additional original watercolors are currently available at my website.

God Bless!

Countin' My Blessings

2010-07-03T22:18:00.004-07:00

That's the title of this painting, and what I've been doing a lot of lately. Counting my blessings.

I was reminded again today how very different my life is this July 4th than it was last year. I won't be watching the fireworks tomorrow with my dad, as I have done so many years in the past. He'll have a much better view of them this year....he told me once how he used to love to fly on the 4th of July so he could watch all the fireworks as he flew over so many more celebrations than any of us could see on the ground.

I was also reminded of my treasured friends, my family and my darling pooch who is always making me laugh. I count them all among my many blessings, and know God is watching over me.

Take a few minutes to think about all your blessings, and be grateful. Things change so quickly.

Memories of Dad....

2010-06-01T19:45:00.006-07:00

June already, summer is here and soon Father's Day will be here, too. I wrote the note below for my dad last year on Father's Day. Less than 2 months later he was gone, unexpectedly and entirely too soon.

He really liked his gift, and so enjoyed the telegrams and memories. I find solace in knowing he is soaring high now with God, home with his beloved parents, his friend Janci and others dear to him that passed on earlier.

In sorting through his things I've found more pieces of history - an address book from 1945, a letter from the Army authorizing his purchase of a uniform, dated October 3, 1942, his registration certificate for Selective Service and assorted certs as he qualified for the many different types of planes he so expertly flew for 40+ years.

Happy Father's Day, Dad. I miss you so very much.
Maybe next year will be easier. I doubt it.

It's Father's Day. I'm blessed with an amazing dad, who is still up and around and, though moving a bit slower now at 87, is still a nut!

While going through old boxes of memories from my grandmother, I found a series of telegrams dating from September 13th, 1940 through May 29th, 1948. My dad sent these home to his folks, each one a brief glimpse into my dad's life as he was looking for a job with the airlines, and was ultimately hired by American Airlines (During World War II, half of American's fleet was turned over to the military airline, Air Transport Command, along with the crews, including dad, who operated all over the world) when he was 20 years old.

They are simple statements, oddly like the snippets on Twitter nowadays. September 13, 1940 - 'Dear folks I arrived here all right weather is warm = Jude' (Dad's childhood nickname, Jude, given to him by his sister, I believe).

August 24, 1942 - 'Dear folks hired by American start at Chicago September first will leave here as soon as possible will get room with Janci near airport if possible hold mail until you hear from me can reach me in Chicago at 6142 Milwaukee or Newcastle 4807 love = Jude' (Janci remained a lifelong friend of my dad's until his death a few years back)

April 8, 1944 - 'Dear folks just a line to let you know I am thinking of you over Easter as always love = Jude Dooley'

On July 8, 1946 a telegram from Shanghai with Dad's schedule...July 14, 1946 from Honolulu... July 15, 1946 from San Francisco....November 24, 1946 off to Ireland. New Year's Day, 1947 found dad preparing to leave for London, Paris, Rome and Cairo.

A small town boy from Nebraska, my dad never stopped loving his job. He told me once he was always happy to go to work. He knew he had a job that was 'not the usual job', and for that he was always grateful. As he was nearing retirement some 40 years after telegraphing his new job to his proud parents in 1942, he started flying 747s from Los Angeles to Hawaii. My mom and I took the trip with him once, staying in Hawaii for 10 days while he flew in and out of Honolulu.

Hawaii was beautiful; my mom and I had a great time. The strongest memory I have from that trip, though, is seeing my dad, the captain of that 747, through the window of the cockpit while we were waiting to board. Once the plane departed, I was the coolest kid on the plane when dad, quite impressive in his uniform, came back to check on us. Wow!!

I've assembled copies of all those telegrams in a notebook for Dad for Father's Day. I'm hoping he'll take pen in hand and write a few of the stories he told me recently while we were looking through those snippets of time. I see a book in the works...I'll keep you posted!

Happy Father's Day, Dad.

A Mother's Love......

2010-04-27T20:45:00.002-07:00

This painting is another piece from the cattle drive I told you about last month! It seemed an appropriate piece for Mother's Day, a tender moment between mom and son.

Erma Bombeck wrote a column once about a mother's love. I thought it might be a nice reminder for us all...

Erma Bombeck on A Mother's Love

We all know that being a Mom is the hardest, most rewarding job on the face of this Earth.

"You don't love me!"

How many times have your kids laid that one on you?

And how many times have you, as a parent, resisted the urge to tell them how much?

Someday, when my children are old enough to understand the logic that motivates a mother, I'll tell them...

I loved you enough to bug you about where you were going, with whom and what time you would get home.

I loved you enough to insist you buy a bike with your own money, which we could afford, and you couldn't.

I loved you enough to be silent and let you discover your hand picked friend was a creep.

I loved you enough to stand over you for two hours while you cleaned your bedroom, a job that would have taken me 15 minutes.

I loved you enough to say, "Yes, you can go to Disney World on Mother's Day."

I loved you enough to let you see anger, disappointment, disgust, and tears in my eyes.

I loved you enough not to make excuses for your lack of respect or your bad manners.

I loved you enough to admit that I was wrong and ask for your forgiveness.

I loved you enough to ignore "what every other mother" did or said.

I loved you enough to let you stumble, fall, hurt, and fail.

I loved you enough to let you assume the responsibility for your own actions, at 6, 10, or 16.

I loved you enough to figure you would lie about the party being chaperoned, but forgave you for it...after discovering I was right.

I loved you enough to shove you off my lap, let go of your hand, be mute to your pleas and insensitive to your demands...so that you had to stand alone.

I loved you enough to accept you for what you are, and not what I wanted you to be.

But most of all, I loved you enough to say no when you hated me for it. That was the hardest part of all.

Erma Bombeck

Happy Mother's Day to all....

Check One Off My 'Bucket List'

2010-04-04T13:48:00.004-07:00

A few years back, I was blessed to participate in a real cattle drive. Not a 'City Slicker' adventure, but an actual real-life cattle drive up in the White Mountains. 4 days, 300+ head of cattle, 40 some miles, if I recall correctly.

I had the opportunity to ride along with real, honest-to-goodness cowboys who were patient and kind and really good cooks!!

We slept in bedrolls under the stars, rode through fields of tall grass and stands of golden Aspen while the bald eagles flew above.

It was one of the many things I have written on my list of things I will do, and I will never forget those days. If you have a list of things you will do, be or create in your lifetime, you'll understand how sweet it was to put a little 'x' next to 'work a cattle drive'. If you don't have a list, get one started!!

This painting is from that adventure. The original is available, contact me for details!

Recovering In My Own Way

2009-12-03T16:20:00.010-07:00

Currently, I am in the process of emptying my father's house, sorting, cleaning, moving and disposing of 87 years of his life. It's a project he promised he would not leave in my hands; I remind him of that regularly. One day I'll finish, but it is a slow process, made more difficult by the Christmas season. So many memories, most of them good, a bittersweet time.

All our lives we're taught how to 'get' things. As a child, we work to get that favorite toy. As we grow up we want a particular car, a certain relationship, a job, a house, recognition, etc. No one teaches us what to do when we lose something.

I was not prepared to lose my father. I knew it would happen one day, just not so soon. I am coping, in my own fashion, doing my best to pull the shattered pieces of my world back together and build a new life.

All relationships are unique. Really. There are no exceptions. So when you say you know how I feel, you are wrong. No one knows how I feel. Your similar loss is an intellectual fact, and not emotionally helpful. You aren't me, and you did not lose my dad. You didn't lose the world that only my dad and I shared, the friendship, the memories, the amazing life my dad provided for me. I'm not saying your grief is or was any less than mine, nor would I say I understand what you went through, because I don't. I did not lose your loved one.

I've been told I need to do this, and I need to do that. I need to allow my friends to help me because they are worried about me. I need to start painting again. I must start attending events and parties, because I will feel better. I will never be the same person I was, and can't pretend I am. Don't judge, evaluate or criticize me, as that only makes me feel more alone; it says I must 'act recovered' so others around me feel better.

I am blessed to have the friends I have, and so appreciate those who check in on me just to see if I'm doin' ok. I answer all my emails, phone calls, go out for an occasional dinner when invited and volunteer at the art center and food co op. I'm painting a bit, doing my yoga and taking long walks with Miss Ellie. These things bring me peace, and are what I need right now. I'm not hiding. I'm recharging and rebuilding.

So please, understand and respect my lack of involvement in things that used to be such a big part of my life. I am healing in the way that works for me. It might not make sense, but that's ok. My friends will understand.

What I've Learned....

2009-10-25T16:17:00.004-07:00

I'm adjusting to a painful and confusing new reality without my dad. I still cry without much prodding, and miss him more than I can stand, at times. I'll be finishing a 'Grief Recovery' class this week, and I believe it has been valuable.

I've learned that I have been blessed with friends that are even better than I imagined. My birthday was this month, the first one without my dad and one that promised to be rotten. Marian took me to lunch and upon returning to her house I discovered she had decorated her living room and kitchen with 'Happy Birthday' banners for me, balloons, presents and love. Lori took me to a lovely restaurant that catered to my vegitarian ways, and we browsed through art galleries and visited the day away, causing my birthday to last another week. This birthday was far from rotten.

Kaori is creating 3 beautiful urns for my father's ashes, one each for me, my brother, and daddy's sister. They are perfect, and I am honored to have these beautiful works of art lovingly keeping watch over my dad.

So many friends offer their help and love, and I have been humbled by the depth of their concern.

I don't know what my future will be, as there are so many things now up in the air that once seemed certain. I do know I am comforted knowing that even though dad is gone, I have so much for which I can be grateful. I am blessed.

Please Be Patient With Me....

2009-08-16T07:17:00.006-07:00

Dear Friends,

On August 13th I suffered the devastating loss of my father, my best friend, my hero. I am grieving, and it will take months, perhaps years to recover from this loss.

I want to let you know that I will cry from time to time. I don't apologize for my tears; they are God's gift to me to express the extent of my loss, and they are also a sign that I am recovering. At times you may see me angry for no reason; sometimes I am not sure why. My emotions are intense because of my grief. If I do not always make sense to you, please be forgiving and patient with me.

More than anything else, I need your understanding and your presence. You don't always have to know what to say, or even say anything if you don't know how to respond. Your presence and a touch or hug lets me know you care. Please don't wait for me to call you, at times I am too tired or tearful to do so. If I tend to withdraw from you, please do not let me; I'll need you to reach out to me for several months.

Pray for me that I would come to see meaning in my loss someday and that I would know God's comfort and love. It does help me to know you are praying for me. If you have experienced a similar type of loss, please feel free to share it with me. It will help.

The loss of my father is so painful, and feels like the worst thing that will ever happen to me. I will survive and eventually recover. I cling to that knowledge even though there are times I don't feel it. I know I will not always feel as I do now. Laughter and joy will emerge once again someday.

Thank you for caring about me. Thank you for listening and praying. Your concern comforts me and is a gift for which I will always be thankful.

'Hard Day's Ride'

2009-07-30T06:52:00.003-07:00

This was one of the first pieces I painted that featured a horse and a cowboy. It was a long day, and we were all tired. Thought this pretty much explained the situation!

I'm not exactly certain how I ended up painting horses. I never had one as a child, and don't own one now. I do enjoy riding, and have been blessed with friends who take me riding on occasion. I'm by no means an expert, but I did make it through a 4 day cattle drive a few years back!

My passion for horses is not so much the desire to own one as it is to help ones who are abused or neglected. I'm involved with The Luv Shack Horse rescue organization, and will be posting more about them as we go along.

God has blessed me with my painting skills; He knows where these skills will take me!

Cowboy Boots

2009-07-27T12:20:00.004-07:00

I've always enjoyed painting studies of boots, saddles and such. A bit of research accompanies these pieces - always good to learn new things!

The first pairs of cowboy boots had very little style and were for working purposes only. They were a tool that helped keep the cowboy safe and quickly became a part of any cowboy’s everyday life.

At first, cowboy boots were only custom made. A cowboy would have to go to a cobbler who would measure his feet and make a pair of cowboy boots just for him. Later, the first mail-order boot companies came about. Getting a pair of cowboy boots in this way was much more humble, but a cowboy down on his luck had to do whatever he could to get his boots.

Cowboy boots began as a practical tool for the cowboy, but soon became a fashion statement. The stitching on the outside usually done in a plain black or brown soon gave way to more colorful thread, and designs and pictures were sewn into the boots. From there, bootmakers began to experiment with inlays and overlays, and suddenly boot designs became limitless. The more extraordinary the cowboy boot could be, the better.

These boots were on a cowboy at a rodeo in the White Mountains. Another glorious day in God's beautiful country.

A Boy From Nebraska....

2009-06-21T09:20:00.009-07:00

It's Father's Day. I'm blessed with an amazing dad, who is still up and around and, though moving a bit slower now at 87, is still a nut!

While going through old boxes of memories from my grandmother, I found a series of telegrams dating from September 13th, 1940 through May 29th, 1948. My dad sent these home to his folks, each one a brief glimpse into my dad's life as he was looking for a job with the airlines, and was ultimately hired by American Airlines (During World War II, half of American's fleet was turned over to the military airline, Air Transport Command, along with the crews, including dad, who operated all over the world) when he was 20 years old.

They are simple statements, oddly like the snippets on Twitter nowadays. September 13, 1940 - 'Dear folks I arrived here all right weather is warm = Jude' (Dad's childhood nickname, Jude, given to him by his sister, I believe).

August 24, 1942 - 'Dear folks hired by American start at Chicago September first will leave here as soon as possible will get room with Janci near airport if possible hold mail until you hear from me can reach me in Chicago at 6142 Milwaukee or Newcastle 4807 love = Jude' (Janci remained a lifelong friend of my dad's until his death a few years back)

April 8, 1944 - 'Dear folks just a line to let you know I am thinking of you over Easter as always love = Jude Dooley'

On July 8, 1946 a telegram from Shanghai with Dad's schedule...July 14, 1946 from Honolulu... July 15, 1946 from San Francisco....November 24, 1946 off to Ireland. New Year's Day, 1947 found dad preparing to leave for London, Paris, Rome and Cairo.

A small town boy from Nebraska, my dad never stopped loving his job. He told me once he was always happy to go to work. He knew he had a job that was 'not the usual job', and for that he was always grateful. As he was nearing retirement some 40 years after telegraphing his new job to his proud parents in 1942, he started flying 747s from Los Angeles to Hawaii. My mom and I took the trip with him once, staying in Hawaii for 10 days while he flew in and out of Honolulu.

Hawaii was beautiful; my mom and I had a great time. The strongest memory I have from that trip, though, is seeing my dad, the captain of that 747, through the window of the cockpit while we were waiting to board. Once the plane departed, I was the coolest kid on the plane when dad, quite impressive in his uniform, came back to check on us. Wow!!

I've assembled copies of all those telegrams in a notebook for Dad for Father's Day. I'm hoping he'll take pen in hand and write a few of the stories he told me recently while we were looking through those snippets of time. I see a book in the works...I'll keep you posted!

Happy Father's Day, Dad.

My 100th Birthday Party!

2009-05-06T07:51:00.008-07:00

A darling maintenance man took a few moments recently to explain how to change the fill valve in my toilet. I was thrilled, as it was easier than I imagined, and saved me an $85.00 plumbing bill. As if the knowledge wasn't enough, he was kind and gave me the part, as well, and I was able to make the repair in 5, yes 5 minutes.

Men used to give me flowers. Now they give me toilet parts. Honestly, I was happier w/the fill valve, and I know I will get a lot more use from it then from a bouquet of flowers. It caused me to think of how my priorities have changed through the years, and what I now believe to be important.

God has a way of pointing these things out, and telling me when I need to slow down.

I spend more time painting now, and working with clay. I dusted off my classical guitar, and walk my darling Miss Ellie most mornings. I'm cooking now, which brings both concern and laughter from my friends. I've learned that the storage cabinet with the window in it in my kitchen is actually an oven. I now know that 'it's done when the smoke alarm goes off' isn't necessarily the best way to judge when all is complete.

Thanks to dear friends and family who support me with love and listening, fabulous vegan recipes, peaceful candles and hugs, vitamin coupons and employee discounts, books, success stories and smiles.

I'm making plans for my 100th birthday celebration. Let me know if you'll be attending!

'You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it'

2009-03-30T15:23:00.003-07:00

There's not much I can add to this....came across it while 'twittering', an interesting world we have created!

"You cannot legislate the poor into freedom by legislating the wealthy out of freedom. What one person receives without working for, another person must work for without receiving. The government cannot give to anybody anything that the government does not first take from somebody else. When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them, and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for, that my dear friend, is about the end of any nation. You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it."

~~~~~ Dr. Adrian Rogers, 1931 - 2005 ~~~~~

Faithful Companion

2009-02-24T15:36:00.004-07:00

I am in possession of an official artist's truck. It's a full size pickup, 1987 Ford F150 with a camper shell. It's been in the family since my dad leased it in 1987; I bought it in '89 when the lease was up.

I had always wanted a truck, and this one has served me well. She's hauled me around the state of Arizona numerous times, carried my art to a number of different shows, been totalled and re-built, and still keeps on truckin'. It's a girl. I don't know how I know this, I just do.

We've both got a few miles on us, 250,000+ for her, more for me. I faithfully change her oil; it's pretty easy, too, taught to me many years ago by an old boyfriend who once said 'If you don't quit bugging me about changing the oil in that truck, I'll teach you and you can do it.' One of my better decisions...he's long gone, the truck is still here.

The Arizona weather is harsh, and the summer heat does a lot of damage to just about everything. The little plastic thingies that hold the headlights in place are weak, and rather then waiting until they break, I decided it best to support them in some fashion. Wire sounded like a great idea, but not something I typically have handy. Then it hit me....picture hanging wire!

She is officially my artist's truck; quirky, art supplies in the back, and held together with a bit of picture hanging wire. She's perfect!

Happy 2009, Entrepreneurs!

2009-01-01T10:28:00.004-07:00

Well, the new year has arrived. I rang it in in my dreams, as I was in bed and sound asleep well before midnight. Actually, my neighbors woke me with their firecrackers and revelry, but that's cool, after all, it was New Year's Eve!

It seems all I heard this week while listening to those year end shows was how miserable everyone is, what a horrible year it has been, and how happy everyone is that 2008 has ended.

I have a 401k, and fortunately I won't be needing it for a number of years, allowing it to grow again. All in all, though, as I listened to everyone complain I kept remembering all the things I have to be grateful for and the good things that happened to me in 2008.

You might know by now that I am one of those 'the glass is 1/2 full' kinda gals, and at times I can be downright annoying with my 'look on the bright side' attitude. What good is accomplished by complaining and forgetting the good things? Yup, we're in trouble in a few areas, the future is uncertain, I get that. Millionaires were made in the depression, however, and there are a number of opportunities available to those who will think about things differently.

Ronald Reagan said 'Entrepreneurs are the forgotten heroes of America.' I'm looking forward to seeing how many of those entrepreneurs, (I'm including myself here), are ready to make 2009 their best year ever!

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-17T17:50:00.001-07:00

I am truly blessed. I love to paint, and am thrilled when the images I create inspire and bring joy to those who see them. I'm fortunate that lots of folks also purchase those images, too, and I certainly appreciate my customers.

I also love people, and have created a customer service business that allows me to remain in contact with great numbers of people, and to work at home most of the time.

Yesterday was one of our first actual wintery days here in the Valley of the Sun. The news was full of the traffic congestion and accidents, due to the fact that no one here can drive in the rain. I shut the news off and turned on a great satellite music station, playing everyone from Dean Martin and Elvis to Bon Jovi and Madonna singing great Christmas songs. The rain on the roof provided music of its own while I alternated between my office and studio.

While working at my computer, my darling smiling cheerful wet border collie, Miss Ellie, came bursting through her dog door, ran into my office and jumped on to my lap, quite proud of her wet coat and muddy paws. She makes me laugh. She also knows she'll get a rub-down with a big fuzzy towel when it rains and she gets wet. We went through the routine 3 times yesterday...rain, wet dog, big fuzzy towel, rain, wet dog, big fuzzy towel, etc. Who has whom trained???

While drying her off, I reminded her of all the things we have to be grateful for, and how blessed we are this Christmas season. I know she understands, after all, she is a Border Collie. I thanked God for her, our health, my dad, my family, friends, my cozy little house with a roof that doesn't leak, my truck that runs when I need it to, neighbors who bring me cornbread and stew on a cold night, my yoga classes, my artistic talent, the opportunity to earn a living and be proud of what I do. Little things, perhaps, compared to what others may think important. These are a few of my favorite things, as the song goes, and I thank God every day for them.

Merry Christmas to all. Slow down a bit, remember what the Christmas season is all about. Smile. Drop some money in the bucket at Wal Mart. Take a nap. Make some cookies, celebrate!

'Giving Thanks' - A time to pay tribute to the Pilgrims of Plymouth Rock.

2008-11-23T06:44:00.004-07:00

This is an article from the LA Times, by Jennifer James. Enjoy.

'Giving Thanks'
By Jennifer James
November 23, 2008

It was Thanksgiving, and for the first time our whole family was together. Mom and Dad had to drive all night just to get here, but boy was it worth it! The Grandsters really know how to do it up right. The Grandsters being Grandpa and Grandma. We were all seated at the table, and I couldn't wait to dive into those mashed potatoes and gravy. And the smell of the turkey -- I thought I was going to faint with happiness.

"What's that, Mindy?" demanded my little cousin Sam. He can be such a pain. He is 8 years old, two years younger than I am.

"What's what?" I asked.

He pointed to a little paper cup containing just three kernels of corn beside Grandpa's plate. I opened my mouth to answer and then realized I didn't know. Ugh! How I hate admitting that I don't know something!

Grandma answered, "It is to pay tribute to the Pilgrims."

"But why three kernels?" asked the always curious Sam. Give it a rest, I thought.

Grandpa answered, "It reminds me of what a tough time the Pilgrims had. In the beginning, three kernels of corn was each person's daily food ration." The table got real quiet after he said that.

Grandpa continued, "Against all odds, they made a life for themselves in the wilderness. Let's talk more about it after dinner."

Sure enough, dinner was over and Sam wanted to know more.

" Squanto taught the Pilgrims to grow corn!" Sam exclaimed. He's never going to forget that -- he played Squanto in the Thanksgiving Day play at school.

"That's right," Grandpa said. "But at first the Pilgrims were terrified of the Indians, as they called them. Then one day a tribesman named Samoset ventured into their encampment. He was tall and dark and by many accounts quite handsome. Loudly and plainly he proclaimed, 'Welcome!' in perfect English."

"The Pilgrims must have freaked!" shouted Sam.

Grandpa laughed and agreed. "I'm sure you're right. He had learned the language from English fishermen. For the Pilgrims, life was a constant battle for survival. Later, Governor William Bradford made a decision. Instead of the colonists sharing their crops equally, he assigned a parcel of land to each family and told them they could keep whatever they produced for themselves."

"Then what happened?" asked Sam.

"At last the Pilgrims began to prosper. Governor William Bradford wrote in his book 'Of Plimoth Plantation,' 'This had very good success, for it made all hands industrious, so as much more corn was planted than otherwise would have been.' "

"Shoot! If you can keep everything you make, of course you're going to work harder. Everybody knows that."

Grandpa answered, "The first seed had been planted for the American Revolution. People were free to practice their religions as they saw fit and were free to keep the fruits of their labor. This had never happened before in the history of mankind. In the words of William Bradford, 'As one small candle may light a thousand, so the light here kindled hath shone unto many, yea in some sort to our whole nation.' "

"That William Bradford sounds like a pretty cool guy," said Sam.

"He was a pretty cool guy," Grandpa said with a chuckle.

Interesting Times....Celebrate Veteran's Day!

2008-11-08T10:16:00.003-07:00

Well, thank goodness the election is over. We have a new president-elect, and life goes on. Time will tell if this choice was the best one for our country. I hope you all honored the great men and women who sacrifice daily so we have the privilege to vote.

Remember our soldiers and their families this Veteran's Day. They sacrifice for our freedom, and deserve our praise and thanks. God Bless 'em, and God Bless America.

Growing Older and Better!

2008-10-15T16:51:00.003-07:00

Well, it's the middle of October already, and my birthday looms near. Hooray!!! I LOVE the fact that I am growing older and, thank GOD, I am growing wiser as well.

I enjoy knowing that the world will not end because my hair isn't quite right. The world won't end because a boy doesn't like me as much as he likes another. As my dad so lovingly told me many many years ago as he was consoling me over the loss of a beau..."Honey, you were born with one asshole. You don't need another one!"

Growing older allows me to not really care too much what folks think of me. Of course I strive to be a good person and retain the small-town values and morals with which I was raised, but other than that, if someone doesn't think I measure up, well, they're certainly entitled to their opinion!

I'm blessed to be able to paint and am honored folks actually think enough of my work to buy it so they can see it every day. I'm less tolerant of people who won't try to better their situation, because anyone can be successful in this country if they try. I've grown more conservative in my politics and less conservative with my hair color. I've developed a closer relationship with God as I have aged, and appreciate every moment I am alive.

My old truck still carries me where I need to go, my dog adores me, and I have a family and lots of friends who all love and understand me. Would I go back to younger years, maybe do a few things different? Nope. All the mistakes I made, the wrong people I hung out with, my eclectic career choices and my complete lack of fashion sense have served me well and shaped me into someone with whom I am quite comfortable.

I can't wait to see what else God has in store for me!!

I Refuse to Participate in a Recession!

2008-09-28T16:17:00.004-07:00

Wow! September is almost over....another art show Friday night, successful in many ways. Made some money, saw some old friends and made new ones. Another show on October 11 in Gilbert, Arizona; things are progressing nicely with my art business, and with my life!

I read a great little piece about the recession today. I'm quite involved with a networking organization called BNI. They educate their members on how to build relationships with fellow members in order to build and develop business contacts and make money. Yes, even when times are a bit tough! Its a powerful network, and its filled with positive people who refuse to participate in a recession!

Dr. Ivan Misner says 'Now, more than ever, a powerful personal network can carry you through difficult times. Business will go on. In times like this, people want to do business with people they trust more than ever. The relationships you have with the people in your network can make the difference in your business.

When times are difficult, BNI can be a positive place for people to meet, build relationships, create business opportunities, and stay focused on solutions, not problems!

You cannot change the economy. The economy is going to be what the economy is going to be. You cannot change your competition. Your competition is going to do what your competition is going to do. But you can change your response to the economy. You can change your response to your competition.

The solution to difficult economic times begins with a commitment to focus on opportunities. Stay focused. Continue to build your relationships. Be there for others and work your BNI network like you’ve never worked it before.

So, on I go, selling art of all things, in an economy where art seems to be the last thing someone might buy. I'm a positive, 'the glass is half full' kinda gal...guess it works!!!

93 Cents for Flight 93

2008-09-09T16:23:00.004-07:00

Wow. I attended an assembly today at a local high school, designed to educate students on the value of making correct decisions in life. The speaker was a survivor of 9-11, a gentleman who was in the South Tower when it was hit. The presentation was profound, and well-received by the students. Clearly, the speaker was still emotional about the day, but he was amazing.

We need to hear these things, and remember what happened to our country. Visit my website at www.jkdooleyart.com for information on a great organization, 93 Cents for Flight 93. Contribute if you are able, and please pass the information to others.

God Bless you, and God Bless America.

Stop, Thief!!

2008-08-23T16:45:00.002-07:00

If you have visited my website, you'll be familiar with good old Jim at the Old West Gallery in Darby, Montana. He's selling my work without my permission,(which means he is stealing it) and, apparently it is still going on!

I have never sold any art to this 'business man' for resale or for any other purpose. He is claiming the signature on the art is my original signature. It is not. These are not authorized by me. They are poor reproductions, and my signature has been forged. Thanks to a wonderful woman from that region, who sensed he was trying to pull a fast one, I first learned about this last year.

I recently received a very nice email from Melissa, which reads as follows...

My name is Melissa Mullin and i travel often to the bitterroot valley, where Darby, MT is located. i have been to the shop that is illegally selling your artwork (or impressions of your artwork) and have seen them first hand. We were wondering if they were real! The shop owner seems rather untrustworthy and targets tourists to sell his overpriced wares. I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am that you have to deal with him! I hope you find resolution with him soon.

I appreciate the kind notes I have received regarding this issue, and am asking any of you who might have traveled through the area to keep me posted on Jim's activities!

Any location authorized to carry my signed giclee reproductions is listed on my contact page. If you have any questions regarding whether or not you are purchasing artwork printed and signed by me personally, please contact me before your purchase and help me keep folks honest.

As you browse my images, you see large copyright text on each piece. That text will not be on the pieces you purchase from me; they are only visible on the web images.

Please pass the word; I'm sure I'm not the only artist dealing with this issue!!

Photographs and Commissions

2008-08-11T14:02:00.005-07:00

Do you paint from photographs?

I hear that question quite a bit, and for most artists, the answer is 'Yes!' For me, however, I find that the answer must be 'no,' and I'll explain why.

From past experience, I have discovered that my paintings aren't as good as they could be when I use someone else's photograph. There are subtleties that I notice, even though the viewer may not. You see, when I am at the event, or working with a client for a commission I am really there. I get to know the subject, meet the cowboy, experience the weather and the mood of the event.

I take a series of photos, and work with the one that allows me the most vivid recollection of the experience. When I am actually painting the piece I can recall details that would not be available to me if I was working with someone else's photo.

My attention to detail and obsession that every aspect of the piece is technically correct prohibits me from painting from memory or imagination.

Does this limit my opportunities? Perhaps, but it does allow me peace of mind, knowing that I'm painting the very best painting!

Time Flies!

2008-07-28T17:32:00.003-07:00

Moments pass so quickly as the years go by. I heard long ago that that was the case, but didn't believe it could possibly be true. It is so very true, and it teaches me to enjoy each moment I am blessed with on earth.

My paintings focus on moments in time, brief glimpses of relationships between man and animal, moments of contemplation or preparation.

Rarely will you see a human face. Why's that, you ask? Can't you paint faces? Of course I can; I choose not to. An expression on someone's face tends to lead you towards a particular emotion. I choose to allow the viewer to create whatever emotion they wish, and to imagine anyone they know in the painting.

So often I hear comments about this painting...."That could be my grandpa!","That's my dad!", etc. I love that, as it turns the viewer of the painting into a participant in the painting.

The time I spend in my studio brings me peace. I'm grateful for the gift, the many, many years I have in front of me and the 100's of paintings I have yet to paint.

Always Wear Clean Underwear!

2008-07-22T15:28:00.003-07:00

Wow. If you believe what you hear or read today, the world is falling apart. There's a hurricane in the Gulf, mortgage giants need to be rescued, foreclosures are up, Madonna's in a meltdown, and...OMG, Batman's been arrested in London!!

Personally, I choose not to participate in the supposed recession. I'm positive and believe that 'God makes a way out of no way'. I'm healthy, my family is strong, my friends are dear, and I believe in myself and my dreams. My paintings are selling, and my business is expanding.

So, what gets me going? Well. How about 'Miami Airport Security Cameras See Through Clothing.' Jeez. Apparently, whole-body imaging machines are being used - they reveal weapons and explosives concealed under layers of clothing.

"It allows us to detect threat objects that are not metallic and that cannot be detected by metal detectors, and items that are sometimes missed even in a physical pat-down, in a non intrusive manner," said Mark Hatfield, federal security director for the Transportation Security Administration at MIA.

They say the image produced 'is more humanoid than human', and the face is blurred. Some guy sits behind a curtain and looks at these all day. Fun.

Granted, it isn't as intrusive as, say, 'turn your head and cough', or, 'scoot your bottom down just a little bit more', but it still gives me the creeps.

I'm pretty certain there have been days when I could look 'more humanoid than human' on my own, without some stranger giving me the 'once over' with a ray gun.

Kinda gives a whole new meaning to my mom's constant admonition to me when I was a child, to 'always wear clean underwear'. Her concern was that I might get in an accident and someone would see if my undies said 'Sunday' on a 'Monday'. Perhaps I should get a pair that say "Hey, guy behind the curtain...what're you lookin' for down here??"

Tony Snow and Amy Winehouse

2008-07-12T07:02:00.007-07:00

I follow the news, though I am not devoted to it and occasionally go a day or two without listening to it or reading it at all. A headline on Drudge this morning saddened me, and got me thinking....

'Tony Snow Dead at 53', followed by 'Statement By the President' and a picture of Mr. Snow in suit and tie in front of an image of the White House.

I used to watch FOX News' Sunday show when Tony Snow was the host. He was witty and seemed to genuinely enjoy his job and respect the people he interviewed. I followed his 17 month stint as White House Press Secretary for President Bush, impressed with his ease at handling the press and his positive attitude on life. That job was cut short by a recurrence of cancer, which Mr. Snow took in stride.

He was a Godly man, loved his family and loved life, appreciating every day he had on earth and living it to the fullest.

His colleagues say he was a 'joy to work with', 'a gentleman'. President Bush said in a statement. "The Snow family has lost a beloved husband and father. And America has lost a devoted public servant and a man of character."

Contrast Mr. Snow's courageous battle with cancer and obvious respect for life to another headline I read on the Drudge Report.

'Winehouse Father Fears She May Face A Slow and Painful Death' followed by 'Wild Night - New 'Snorting' Video Hits Sun' and a picture of Ms. Winehouse drinking a cocktail and looking, in my opinion, a bit disheveled.

Before you think I'm old-fashioned, I actually like Ms. Winehouse's voice. I enjoy listening to her music and have no problem with her quirky sense of style. And yes, one can't always trust what one reads in the press about those celebrities. However, I do find it interesting that her husband is in prison and her father is quoted as saying "My biggest fear is that she would die and she won't die from an overdose, she will die from emphysema."

I cannot imagine leading a life that would inspire my father to be more concerned about my emphysema than my drug use.

Ms. Winehouse is known for her wild life, as well as her talent. Her life is chaotic and looks to be spinning out of control. Control being the operative word, as I believe her health concerns are treatable. Hard to treat? I imagine they would be. Reversible? Maybe not, but at least she might be able to stop the downhill slide and enjoy a longer life. Mr. Snow was not able to stop cancer's downhill slide. Though he fought a courageous battle, his life here on earth ended entirely too soon.

Am I saying folks that live a wild life should die first? Get real, that's not at all what I am saying. Contrast the love of life, family, God and country Mr. Snow epitomized with Ms. Winehouse's apparent lack of love for her life and her family; I don't presume to know how she feels about God and her country. Contrast Mr. Snow's fight to stay here on earth with Ms. Winehouse's apparent haste to depart.

Tony Snow and Amy Winehouse. God bless both of you, and your families in these difficult times.

Rest in Peace, Al.

2008-07-06T06:54:00.003-07:00

I've owned 2 vehicles in the last 30 years. I drive 'em for a long time, and take good care of them! My first was a '77 Chevy Impala, which I finally got rid of after 200,000 miles or so. I currently drive an '87 Ford pickup truck. 240,000+ miles, so far. I'm going for 300,000!!

Why am I telling you this?

In all these years of maintaining my 2 vehicles, I've had the same mechanics. Al was a darling man who had 4 sons who would help him after school at his garage. It was an old garage, 2 big doors, no air conditioning, cold beer in the 'fridge - on Main Street, no less. I always felt welcome, and never once had the thought that I might not be getting a good deal cuz I was a girl.

Al retired. One son, Tommy, and his boy now run the garage. They moved a few blocks away, but I still can walk in there knowing I am always welcome and will get the best old-fashioned service around along with friendship and respect that grows stronger each year. Still no AC, nothing fancy, just good service and good people. My dad takes his vehicles there, too, and he is always treated with respect and kindness.

Al died last week, from Alzheimer's disease. The last 6 years had been rough on his family as he slipped further and further away. The funeral was lovely, as they remembered all the wonderful things about Al and his boys and their families, and his wife of 61 years.

I'm not one to get real dressed up for anything, but figured I might need to find a skirt or 'something appropriate' for the funeral yesterday. I didn't find anything, and figured the most appropriate thing to wear was anything that I was comfortable in, since I was always comfortable around Al. God doesn't care what you wear to funerals, and I know Al and his family didn't, either. I wore jeans.

Al was a 'blue jean' kinda guy, strong and sturdy and durable and always reliable. God Bless you, Al, and your family. Say hi to mom, if you get a chance!!

I have the coolest friends!!

2008-06-29T11:38:00.004-07:00

I am blessed. I participated in an art show last Friday night, set up by the East Valley Art Guild; a great group of people! It was great fun; I met nice people and sold art....what a concept!

At various times throughout the evening, I stepped back to soak it all in. My friend Jackie, who had helped me set up and volunteered to stay and help me sell my art, supporting me in every way possible was pointing out the finer aspects of one of my paintings to a very attentive group of people. Lori, another dear friend of mine and her husband Larry were in attendance to support me and cheer me on. Robbie was there, so talented and supportive, as well as my new friend Valerie, who after working all day took the time to come by and wish me luck.

I have amazing friends. They are creative and funny and interesting and I appreciate them. They are there for me, as I am there for them. I am truly blessed.

Jake, Molly and Miss Ellie

2008-06-21T12:20:00.005-07:00

I have a new dog. Actually, I've had Miss Ellie since October, 07. I lost Molly in August, 07, and had no plans to get another dog so soon, if ever. Have you heard the phrase, 'If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans'?

My first dog was an Airedale mix from the pound, a scruffy hobo-like dog name Jake, whom I adored. He was flighty, unreliable, hard to catch and harder to pin down, rather like I was during those years I had him. But he was lovable and a great watchdog, and I was crushed when I lost him at 12 to cancer.

Molly, a Border Collie/Lab/whatever mix found me when my dad and I went to the pound to get a dog. She was 1 year or so old, perfectly trained and well mannered. She barked at and chased everything. She was a 35 pound lap dog, affectionate and loyal and always smiling. She allowed me to dress her up every Christmas and take her picture, though I could tell she was horrified whevever that Santa hat came out; she refused to smile.

Miss Ellie is a Border Collie, chocolate brown and white, around 2 years old, I think. She was badly abused as a pup, left to die in a crate alongside a freeway. She still has a few quirks that I suspect I will never understand. She is full of joy, bright eyes and a big smile, always curled up at my feet or poking me with whatever toy she insists I simply MUST throw RIGHT NOW!! She found me when I needed peace, and her gentle, calm soul keeps me grounded.

I suspect Molly has communicated a warning to Miss Ellie regarding the Christmas hat and the dreaded Christmas photograph. Ellie absolutely refuses to allow me to take her picture.

Happy Father's Day, Dad

2008-06-15T09:51:00.002-07:00

It's Father's Day today. My dad is 86, and I am blessed to still have him in my life, healthy and funny and still who I turn to when anything goes wrong. And when anything goes right!

Thank you God, for the blessings in my life and for allowing my dad and I all these years together...and for many more to come.

Happy Father's Day to all the dads, here and gone, who inspire, teach, laugh, encourage, discipline and believe in their children. And love them unconditionally.

I love you, dad!

Mom, Tim Russert and the space shuttle.

2008-06-14T18:17:00.006-07:00

My mom died 8 years ago today. Flag Day, 2000. She drowned in her pool, dad found her, had to pull her out and call 911. A totally accidental death and one which came upon us swiftly, without warning.

I remember we went on auto-pilot, made all the arrangements, flew her back to Illinois, had the funeral and began the task of going through her treasures.
She was a great mom, and is missed.

I believe I know what Mr. Russert's family is going through. It is shocking and sudden and your world turns upside down and you try to be strong and then you don't care if you aren't. But you get through it. May God Bless your dear family. Say hi to mom, she's a diehard Republican, and a fan of Richard Nixon. I KNOW you'll have a few interesting conversations.

I am a space nut, ever since visiting the Space & Rocket Center in Huntsville, Alabama many years ago. I admire the astronauts of the past, present, and future and wish I was one of them. They are cowboys, heading off into unfriendly territory with no guarantee of a safe return. I want to go to space camp. I want to meet the astronauts, and take a trip on the space shuttle. I watch the missions and cannot grasp how they get those things to get off the ground, circle the earth at 17,000 miles per hours, travel over 5 million miles in 14 days, shoot back toward earth, a blazing fireball through the atmosphere, and safely glide in for a perfect landing. I pray for the families of the astronauts lost. I admire everyone who dreamed up those ships that travel in space. I watched another shuttle land safely today, and as always, I am in awe.

A lot of thoughts rattling around in an artist's brain....now it's back to the studio.

Well, Here Goes!

2008-06-13T19:31:00.005-07:00

I've been after my dad to start a blog. He's a retired airline pilot, 86 years old, and has amazing stories that scream to be told. Dad is pretty sharp, computer savvy, and quite articulate but this blog thing seems to have him stumped.

When he asked me how to get started, I had a few ideas, but no practical experience. So, that's why Friday the 13th, 2008 finds me spending the afternoon in front of my computer wandering throught the internet learning how to get started, at least.
I found Photobucket, created a little slideshow, and posted that here so y'all can see what kind of artwork I do.

I'll be adding links as the days progress, and fleshing this thing out a bit more. For the time being, at least I have an idea of how to get started. Now it's a matter of continuing!! Now...where's that 'publish' button??

God Bless!